trails.

[docwithablog]

[ He's crossing Regent's Park across the middle, passing by the Ready Money drinking fountain without making halt, his pulse beating away in time with his footfalls. Thud, thud, thud. He's been running every day for the past five days -- and before that, a couple of times a week since Khan left him with no specific promises. It's done his musculature well, even if he's nowhere near the kind of toning that the other man's presenting, though to be fair, he isn't exactly aiming that high either. It's a mental thing. Moving. Staying in motion. Forward, forward, forward, soldier.

He's been at a standstill for too long as it is.

Drawing nearer to the Outer Circle on the other side of the Zoo, he keeps up the pace, his t-shirt clinging to his back wetly. Since Dr. Johnson suspended him (temporarily, out of the goodness of his heart, please), John has spent the time well, at least.

Takes lemons to make lemonade, they say -- and if nothing else, he's getting about ready to just quit this damn job already. ]

Comments

[docwithablog]

Yes, very hard, very difficult -- near impossible.

[ It's not just the man's looks. Come on, John has actually not been dumbed down enough by Hollywood to believe appearance is the main denominator when it comes to sex. He's pretty sure a whole bunch of the butt ugly rock stars and old, fat men with money get laid like it was no one's business. In the same way, there are pretty boys (and girls, sure) with personalities ugly enough for two who leave people scrambling after the first shag. No, it's not Khan's looks that make it difficult to believe, it's the way he acts. Raw masculinity, magnetic personality, you know, pretty much sex on legs, whether you're a guy or a girl, you're bound to react to it, case in point now, right? Case in point.

John licks his lips and glances sideways up at the other man. ]

But it seems I'm taking your word for it anyway.

[ Is the man with the trust issues, bloody hell. Even if it wouldn't get him in more trouble, even if they go back to Baker Street now and fuck the living daylights out of each other, anal, oral, whatever, no protection, he's really kind of over doing blood work in the clinic's staff bathroom. Because... yes, well. ]

[insuperiorstrength]

Perhaps in time, I'll prove it to you.

[ Hm. He leaves it at that for now; the next point of discussion, after all, would pertain to John rather than to himself and that, he thinks, is bound to be a losing battle. After all, he could attempt to explain that in reality, he doesn't have the time to do even this - and he certainly doesn't have the time nor the inclination to run about in 23rd century London, looking for someone to fuck when his people are being held hostage. But something about John, about the notion of family, trans-dimensional as it all may be, keeps drawing him back. There's no other person he'd return for.

And even then, there's just something about John that he finds too interesting.

He gives John a quick sideways glance, expression not quite as blank as usual, a hint of something less cool behind his eyes. It's there and gone again in a flash. ]